The Whoop in Whoopie

 

190 calories? Uh, I’ve lost the “whoop” for the “whoopie.”

Starbucks, why do you tempt, tease, and torment me?” There’s always room for alliteration.

This is what my mind said while I pined over red velvet whoopie morsels of delight, within those glass windows they set up next to the line.

The coffeehouse has to display the calories now (in certain states); a means of torture.  When I’m in a masochistic mood, I head to Starbucks to fall in love with some sweet and then be tormented by it’s calorie count.

The caloric intake and the shame after is merely a microcosm of an average day for the average person.  I happen to be one of those average people who tempt myself with activities, partake in them, tease myself about my behavior, and then torment myself with shame.  By “tease” I mean the process by which we over analyze the behavior sending our mind in all sorts of directions and end up with some horrific story we deem to be true.

Of course we can arrive in the opposite direction, as well, where it’s not so horrific in the “hellish” sense, but more so horrific because our heads are so far up in the clouds of heavenly bliss they might as well be up the ass. “…The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem…”  Shakespeare continuously highlights the power of the imagination and the games it plays upon each and every one of us.  Sure things can seem fair and beautiful, but they become all the more so once our imagination gets to work. And then we’re f*cked.  Something has been put up on a self-created, unsustainable pedestal.

Put the teasing aside, unless there are feathers involved, and seize the moment without the raucous of the imagination.  Put the Whoop back in the Whoopie and return to your healthy diet next meal, without the shame of a guilty pleasure.  The little pie isn’t going to be quite as delicious as you imagine, and it’s not going to cause quite as much destruction as you imagine.

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